The Knife That Did More Then Murder
by JustAnotherLoneWolf
Summary: I'm back with a new story! Uhh...I have no idea for a summery, but lets just say this is a "snippet" of Rico's childhood. Warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! I know I haven't posted anything in forever, but this idea came to me while eating sherburt, and I had to post it, it was to intresting (to me, anyways) not to share with you guys. My other stories are on hold, mainly from lack of inspiration, and I've started reading a lot more now because I got new glasses. Anyways, enough with me, read if you please! **

**Warning. This story is pretty violent, the reason it's rated T. If you can't take that stuff, don't read on. This is a horror story, and I don't wanna scare anyone. Viewer (or reader) disgression is advised. **

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><p>For him, this was heaven on earth. He didn't believe in heaven though, only hell.<p>

He stabbed her flesh with the knife again, and pulled then knife out as fast as humanly possible.

As he did that, blood flew from the knife. It seemed to pull itself towards the white walls, then slowly run down onto the tan carpet.

The man with the knife let out a loud scream of frustration.

"Why did you have to let it end this way?! It could have worked out! All you had to do was-" he stopped talking and stabbed the body again, and pulled the knife out and smeared the blood on his hand. He looked at his hand that was now covered in blood and holding a knife, and kept yelling.

"All you had to do was listen to me!" He dropped the knife, and let it fall into the victims head, and then turned and walked away, dragging his blood soaked hand through his hair while cursing.

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><p>The child opened his eyes, and the first thing he head was screaming, and words he had heard his parents yelling before. Words such as, "Bitch, fuck, hell, damn, and more.<p>

He considered pulling the blankets over his head, and falling back asleep so he could tend to the sheep in the morning. His father had suggested them living on the chickenless farm, saying it was a sucluded area and was good to raise a child.

Only that wasn't the story that would rain true.

The boy then shook his head. "I'm gonna be brave, like...superman! Yeah! Nobody can stop me!"

He claimed out of bed, and slowly went into the hallway, nothing.

He went into the kitchen, never looking in the family room of the house, just because he thought serching one room at a time would be easier.

He didn't know that when he turned his head, his would would come crashing down, almost like his mothers body had with the first out of 23 stabs.

He may have only been right years old, but he knew how to defend himself. He picked up a knife, and cringed at how long it was. He didn't wanna use it, he was scared, after all.

He left the kitchen and started heading towards the family room.

He heard his father talking, muttering to himself.

"The kid. I gotta handle the kid, I gotta figure something out, and make it fun."

"Dad? Are we gonna play a game? This time of night? What's on the walls? It looks a lot like-" the child got cut off by his father.

"Come here, my boy. I wanna show you something." He dropped the knife in shock.

The way his father talked, the child was almost temped to run into the woods. He thought about this until he heard the shout.

"Boy! Come here. Now."

He complied, and he was scared to death. He dropped the knife way back when he first seen his dad, thinking it was okay.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

The child was horrified to death when he seen his mother, dead. She was covered in blood, and had a knife, one similar to the one he had grabbed, in her head.

"Dad…what happened? Why are you-" he was crying now, scared beyond belief.

His father have a smile and said, "Because, my son, one day, you will learn to do this. Maybe even better then me!" Now, now he was regretting running.

"Dad...what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong, Rico! Now, let us go and teach you some things, and get out of here, before the devil comes."

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><p><strong>Yup, Rico has a wonderful father. Anyways, as of now, this is a one-shot, but if anyone wants me to write abotjer few chapters or something or has any questions, you can either review if you don't wanna PM, and I'll answer it in the next chapter if there is one, or I'll PM you, or whatever, I don't care. My point is I'm willing to answer questions. Adios! (Goodbye in Spanish) <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello writers. If you are reading this, I have decided to write chapter two of The Knife That Did More Then Murder. I have this story completely planned out now, but since this is going to be a full blown story, it's gonna have to have some fillers. Don't worry, unlike my last story, these fillers won't suck. I swear.**

Now, as for warnings on this chapter, I don't think this one is as gruesome as the first one, it has hardly any violence, but this story in all is gonna be pretty bad. This chapter is REALLY short, and I'm sorry for that. Also sorry for not posting it ASAP, I've been busy with my other stories.

The drive to the airport was full of silence. They both had no idea where they were going, but they couldn't say they cared. All Rico knew was he was scared, and wanted his mom back. He had a feeling saying that would get him hurt, so he kept his mouth shut.

His father was on edge as well. He had to get out of here. He wasn't going to prison, no. If he did go to prison, he would kill his way out, guard by guard. Then, he would get his son back, and they would do what they were doing right now. Getting out of America.

"Son, from now on you will call me sir, the real father, or Jax." He said. He pulled into the airport parking lot, and wiped the blood of his hands before getting out.

"Yes sir." Rico got out of the car, and looked around. There were people everywhere. Maybe he could run and tell one of them before his father could hurt him…

"Rico! You are not to tell anyone about what just happened, are we clear?" Jax interrupted the boys thoughts.

"Yes sir." Rico walked into the airport followed by his father.

Not one person in that room would ever think they were walking side by side with a killer.

Rico knew better though. He knew what his father had done. He was sure the images he had seen tonight were never going to go away. They would stay stored in his brain for the rest of his life, almost like an adults graduation pictures. Tucked away and mentioned every once in awhile, always causing tears to flow.

Suddenly, the boy wondered where they were going. He knew they were leaving the country, but where they were going was a mystery to him.

"Uhh…father?"

"Real father." Jax corrected. He dug something out of his pocket and looked at them while muttering.

"Real father, where are we going? If that isn't to much to ask. I mean, I understand if you don't wanna tell me…" Rico stuttered, not so sure how to explain what was on his mind.

It all happened so fast. Too fast. Jax grabbed Rico and dragged him into a small room. There were brooms, mops, and different cleaners littering the closet.

"You will not, will not, be scared of me. Ya hear me?" He dragged his hand harshly over the younger boys face.

Rico couldn't help the tears that came from his eyes. He thought that the hitting was over with the one hit, but he was wrong.

His father slapped the child again, then started harshly whispering again.

"Don't fucking cry! You're weak, Rico. You're so weak, just like that piece of trash that you came from. You may think you're my son, but you're not. Worthless pieces of trash, all of you." With that, the man left the closet.

Rico stood there, to scared to move.


End file.
